Rufus Wainwright: The Way People Consume Music “Is S--t”

After almost 20 years in the music industry as a singer, composer, and collaborator—and as a child of venerated musicians Loudon Wainwright III and Kate McGarrigle—Rufus Wainwright is ripe for some musical retrospection. The recent release of Vibrate: The Best of Rufus Wainwright and recordings from his Live from the Artists Den concert bring together more than 30 tracks, including the new “Me and Liza.”* The new compilations include fan favorites such as “April Fools,” “Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk,”and his haunting rendition of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”—*plus a smattering of grade-A collaborators like Sean Lennon, Mark Ronson, and Andy Burrows.

VF Daily: Your album is a “best of,” not a “greatest hits,” which I like. It alludes to many great things still to come. Did you enjoy re-visiting your work?

Rufus Wainwright:__ __One of the perks about not having a greatest-hits album is you can really present with a kind of untarnished perception of how you feel as an artist. I’ve had a lot of success on many levels in the mainstream, but I haven’t procured the golden ring at the fair . . . on the other hand, that has really freed me up to explore any musical universe I choose. It makes for a really interesting album. I feel it’s the highest-quality work I’ve done over the years, which in the end is more important than how many times it’s played on the radio; it’s a little classier.

Looking back at your music now, do you feel that the way you conceive a piece has changed with the industry?

Oh, I think music has changed dramatically, how it’s disseminated, how people consume it, I mean it really is, um—it’s shit, I think. I wish I could be more optimistic but people don’t really buy records, they don’t really like songs particularly anymore. I’ve stuck to my guns over the years, I think out of necessity. I don’t know what else to do. So I still believe in the song, and I still believe in the album, and I still believe in the kind of quality, beautiful recording. I don’t believe in antics, in kind of, you know, scandal ruling the roost. I also believe [that] as you get older, you get better. In the United States, it’s just hard to do that as much. I don’t know, I do very well in Europe, but I do well in the U.S. too. It’s hard to come to terms with sometimes, when you, I guess, watch television or what people hit on YouTube. But then again, whatever, when has the world ever been easy for artists?

With songs like, “Going* to a Town,” *I’ve wondered if you found the United States creatively stultifying, although clearly you love Montauk.

Yeah I had to leave [the U.S.] for a time, I went to Germany to make an album right during the onset of the Iraq war, just because it was too depressing. Also I met my husband, we were falling in love at that point. I will say though that America is so fascinating to me. It’s shifted so many times in so many dramatic directions in my lifetime you know from Reagan to Clinton to Bush to Obama it’s been a roller-coaster ride. And that’s what I love about it, and I still have faith in the United States. That’s how I look at it now, always look on the bright side of things.

Is there any kind of feeling that you’re trying to get across with the album? Was there a sentiment in mind?

I think the one sentiment that I would like to maybe engender is again this belief in songwriting, this belief in the marriage between lyrics and melody and a kind of, you know, frame around it that people can kind of get lost in. As I said, you know, referring to today’s musical climate, there’s really no kind of way in emotionally. A real album with real songs will have comedy elements, elements of tragedy and sadness. But perhaps it’s variety I’m meant to bring back, where it’s not all like one monolithic sound.

Out of curiosity—I notice that “Rashida” is not on the track list, and Vanity Fair gets a mention in that song . . .

Oh, “Rashida,” of course! The problem with the last time I went to the Vanity Fair party is not so much, I mean I had a great time, it was lovely, but I got so wrapped up in the whole Hollywood tornado that I, before going to the Vanity Fair party, I went to Barney’s and bought an $8,000 Tom Ford jacket, thinking that it was, you know, for work and that it would be helpful to my career, which is utter lunacy, so I had to stay away until I make a little more moolah and I can justify my shopping tendencies. I may have to stay away from the Vanity Fair party for a couple of years.

And going forward, is there a particular genre or sound that you would like to explore?

Well, I’ll always write songs, and I’m working a lot in Hollywood right now, with some movie directors to try and fashion some stuff together. There’ll be more on that at some point. And I’m getting ready to write my next opera, Hadrian, about the Roman emperor. And that looks like two years. I’m still deeply immersed in the operatic world so that’s quite musically challenging, I’m very excited for that.

You had something of a milestone birthday last year. [It was his 40th.] Did that have an influence on you releasing the album at this time in your life, or was this something that came about creatively?

Well, it wasn’t planned out that way, but nonetheless I’ve always had a strange kind of syncopation between life and art. It seems like if you don’t plan too much, this pattern will kind of form that when you look back at it makes a lot of sense. I think having the “best of” album come out right after my 40th says a lot, but this is definitely the first tour that I’m on where I really have to readjust the parameters and figure out a way to be more present in my daughter’s life. And really cut down on a lot of performances just so that I can see the greatest performance happening in my life, which is, of course, my daughter’s upbringing.

Do you think your daughter has influenced the music that you write?

Oh, very much so yeah, I mean even before she was born I wrote a couple of songs about her. And since her birth, I’ve written two others. There’s almost a whole album there, poor thing.

Were you very particular about the flow of songs, and how it reflected your body of work?

Yeah, I mean, the order was important . . . I wasn’t totally sure about the effect of it all together until a couple of weeks ago until I really sat down with some friends and we had a beautiful dinner and then listened to the record. We sat back and experienced the whole situation, and it was really all very moving for me. I will attest that I’m not really someone who sits around and listens to my work—these days. I used to do that a lot [laughs]. I’m not as drawn to that. I did nonetheless do it once, and I was in tears a couple of times. And I also love how the album ends on a song about my husband. It’s a beautiful story.